


Seek Me Through The Walls

by SineadRivka



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Matchmaking, Post-Star Trek: Into Darkness, Sarek learning from Spock Prime, post STID, that god-damned warp core
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 19:51:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13130898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SineadRivka/pseuds/SineadRivka
Summary: Spock is having a hard time handling Jim's death and rebirth. Spock Prime and Sarek are enjoying a friendship that has been beneficial to both individuals. McCoy wishes that Jim would stop being such an infant.





	Seek Me Through The Walls

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not continue this story, even though I have some ideas to pick up from it in the future. I just wanted to get this online. It's not really Beta'ed, and it's just something that popped into my mind. Since it wouldn't leave me alone, I figured that I'd write some of it down and then see if it needed to be continued.

Spock jolted awake, flailing and trembling, fighting the blankets that twisted around his frame. Panting, emotional control in tatters, he aimed his gaze blearily at his chronometer, hissing at the time displayed . . . he’d only had three hours of sleep. Three hours. His body needed more than six after the stresses of the last several days.

Rubbing at his face, he slumped, feeling uncharacteristically defeated.

He wasn’t going back to sleep.

Not after _that_ nightmare.

So he stood, taking the topmost blanket from his bed, and made his way out to the couch. His hand grazed his padd along the way, fingertips automatically grasping it and bringing it along with him.

Spock greeted the sun, no closer to finding emotional equilibrium than when he had fitfully settled himself to sleep.

~*~

Two months passed by. The Enterprise is still in drydock, much of her innards visible or physically hanging through hull breaches. The spit of sparks mark where engineers and mechanics were hard at work.

Spock stares up at the silver lady, eyes softening in memory. This was not _his_ Enterprise, but it was a close version to the one he loved. He continued walking along the warm spring day in Iowa, finding peace among the farmlands his husband had loved so dearly. He had visited the farmhouse his Jim had inherited from proud grandparents, nestled close to the river. This universe’s Jim may one day inherit it from the Kirks, even as he was in line to inherit his mother’s farmhouse after she fought for it and won it back from Frank.

Spock’s work on New Vulcan was at an impasse while they awaited the maturation of biological materials in order to cultivate hardier generations. Several young plants and animals native to Vulcan were showing promising traits, but it would be six months at the minimum with no glitches in their genetics before his project could continue. With a gentle sigh, he rounded a corner of an access point, unsurprised to see his father waiting for him. Wordlessly, the younger version of the man he struggled with his entire adult life held out the cane he had carefully stowed away.

Ah, well. Pride was illogical. He took the cane with a nod, securing it in his left hand and unashamedly began to use it to ease the old pain from years of away missions wreaking havoc on his left leg. They walked together along the perimeter of the dry dock, comfortable in their silence as chain-link fence along the security checkpoint turned to solid wall. Spock never could have hid his identity from Sarek; the moment that the Elder had seen him, his eyebrows had shot up behind his bangs in absolute shock. Since the moment of their meeting, Sarek had latched onto this elderly version of his own son, even to the point of offering him the name Selik. It had been this universe’s Amanda’s second choice of name if the name Spock did not suit her son particularly well. He knew that his own mother had held a love for the name Shanak, and had he been of a mind to procreate, he would have passed that name down to his own son.

Old Selik had assisted Sarek in many ways; most important of which was his own mind and reasoning. He could give insight into Spock’s actions as a child and a young adult in greater detail and presented to Sarek’s mind in a manner that the elder could digest. There were days where the father would receive a curt reply to a query from his son and, refusing to show the frustration that he felt because he could not understand his son’s humor at times, would simply hand the padd to Selik wordlessly. There were a few times where Selik would give in to expressing his emotions, especially once he knew that Spock had caught on to his father asking his older self for assistance. That one message had him bark a laugh, then cover his mouth with his hand to hide his smile.

_“So you agree that my son is rebelling against the principles of Surak.”_

_“Oh, Sarek, on the contrary! He is learning to express both natures. This quip is a pun, and was meant for my eyes; he has ‘cottoned on’ to the fact that you are asking for my help with understanding him. If you notice the following line, it is perfectly worded in Vulcan that he is simply testing the boundaries with what you may or may not find amusing.”_

_“But to express that emotion—”_

_“Sarek, I implore thee, desist. Could you see Spock abandoning our ways to allow himself to be ruled by his emotions, rather than to process and express them as his human nature dictates that he do? Expressing emotions do not mean that one is controlled by emotions, after all.”_

_“This is true. I heed your wisdom and insight, Elder.”_

_“Paaahhh . . . false humility does you no favors, Father. Though I do find amusement in myself at your words. Respond as such . . .”_

But there were days like this where they could simply walk in silence. Spock was at peace with this version of his father, assisting him with finding peace with the memory of his father. Sarek was at peace with this other-universe version of his son, which helped him with working out the peace with his own son. They shared a family bond closer to that of cousins than that of father and son, and it rested gently between them now.

They took another turn, steps pausing at the sight before them.

Spock, young Spock, sitting with head in his hands, back against the wall. He lifted his head slowly, shock evident over his features, even though he attempted to school them into Vulcan impassivity.

Sighing, Selik walked over to his younger self, taking a seat upon a stack of cement blocks carelessly left behind by whoever had repaired the wall recently. Sarek folded himself into a seated position before his son, reaching over and brushing his hand over the sun-warmed and wind-teased hair. “My son.”

“My father,” came the soft croak.

“You have been troubled for some time.”

“I have.”

“You have not shared your struggles with House and Clan.”

“I have not. I did not wish to bring shame to the House.”

“That is unfortunate that you would believe you could _ever_ bring shame to our family, my son. You have brought great honor to us for many years that any troubles you bring would simply be understood and assisted with. I admit that I am surprised to see you here, as I had assumed you had resumed teaching at Starfleet while the Enterprise was rebuilt.” Sarek folded his hands under the cuffs of his robes, eyes soft towards his cherished child. “What troubles you so, that you cannot come to myself or your elder self to seek counsel?”

The only answer was a shake of the head, eyes lowering to the dirt between his knees and his father’s. Trembling fingers were drawn into fists to still them.

Selik shifted, nodding to himself. “Jim’s death has affected you on a deeper level than you had anticipated.”

Spock’s eyes squeezed shut, and he turned his head away from the older half-Vulcan.

“So, with that acknowledged, what else have you discovered about how his death has affected you?”

It took almost an hour of silence before the young Vulcan whispered his response, barely heard over the breeze shuffling through the grasses. “I could not save him in the moment he needed me most. I could not save his _katra_.” Spock’s breath shuddered. “ _I could not touch him._ Touch, as if I were not a Vulcan but a _human_ . . .”

“You are both, my son,” Sarek replied, his voice kind. “It is not that I wish you to deny a portion of yourself where your mother continues to live through you; I wish you peace between your two heritages. To deny your need for touch would be to deny your need to understand the emotions that have the same depth as a Vulcan’s, though not necessarily identical to how a Vulcan would define their emotions.” He reached over once more, his hand carefully resting upon a clothed shoulder.

Spock shuddered at his father’s hand, warmth seeping through the layers of clothing to his skin. “I ended my relationship with Nyota, though it was mutual. She saw what I refused to see . . . and that was the depth of my connection with my Captain. I am adrift, Father.”

“Oh, not so adrift as you may assume.”

Spock looked up at Selik, who nodded out and away from where they sat. A distinctive blonde man leaned against his motorcycle, far out of earshot. Spock stiffened, but didn’t move out from under his father’s hand.

“Spock,” Selik murmured, the emotions clear upon craggy features and in gravel voice. “Can you be so sure that you did not, in fact, touch his mind?”

“I did not have skin contact. We . . . we were separated through a glass door.”

The old face turned down to the young one with a smile clearly written over his features. “Oh, come now. You of all Vulcans know that one does not need to touch psi-points on a face in order to touch minds. Why do you lie to yourself? Is it because you continue to feel unworthy of the gifts that your very existence has bestowed upon you? I have seen your psi-ratings; their potential once cultivated is indeed great and terrible.”

Well, fuck.

Spock looked away again, but his voice was firm, though soft. “I fear what I can become if I cannot control myself.”

“When gripping sand, the harder you hold onto the fistful you possess, the faster it will seep through your fingers.” Selik leaned closer to his younger self. “Vulcans normally look to _pon farr_ as the release of the emotions we strive to control. You and I have a very different ability due to our human heritage: we are able to release emotions on a more regular basis, without fear that they will overrule our intellect. This is not the first time that you see that you are capable of feeling, nor is it the first time that you have _acted_ upon these emotions. The tighter your grip, the less control you have.”

Sarek’s hand slid down to his son’s elbow, then down to hold his forearm. “You are gifted, my son, with psi ratings that have been rarely seen in our people in many generations.”

“He smiled . . . trying to reassure me even while his body was dying . . .”

“You have your mother’s compassion, and your father’s stubborn nature.”

“I want to see that smile every day of my life, father.”

“Then do not let the opportunity pass you by.”

“He is _t’hy’la_ and I fear that I may cause him more harm by being closer to him! You do not understand that I do not wish to destroy him by my very mind!”

“He is your perfect balance, Spock,” Selik whispered. “Can you not conceive that we are not discouraging you? I had my Jim for more years than I had hoped for. Even now, I feel his _katra_ awaiting mine, warm and patient across a veil of wool between us. Spock, _do what feels right_.”

Footsteps waded through the grass, closer and closer, though slow in pace. There was a slight limp, the breath short from the minimal exertion, but the sun itself drew close when Jim sank down beside Spock with a groan. “Stop running away, you fucking pain in my ass.” He leaned his shoulder against Spock’s with a wave at the elder Vulcans from his free side. “Thank you for stalling him. I’m really not supposed to be out of the house. Or even out of bed or off a couch, for that matter.”

“Escaped Leonard for the day?”

“Eh, the next half hour or so. He ran to get groceries and I slipped out the back.”

Spock was stiff, unsure of what to do.

“Gonna need you to drive the bike back.”

“Jim—” three Vulcans admonished, making the blonde crack a grin and slouch further, resting his head on Spock’s shoulder.

“Don’t let me interrupt your confab. I’m gonna just nap before Bones calls your comm in a panic.” And almost within three breaths, he was out.

“Did _yours_ do this?” Spock asked in shock, looking to his counterpart.

The older man was smiling softly at the sight before him. “Any chance that we would not be interrupted or seen, he would do this. My Jim was ever the hedonist, and I fully admit that it ‘rubbed off on me.’ Or, more specifically, _he_ would rub off on me—”

“Surak save my logic,” Sarek groaned. “You truly were bonded to your Jim Kirk if your words are any indication. I need not hear what my son (in any dimension) dabbles in regarding his sexuality.”

“Embarrassment is illogical, Sarek. It is a simple fact that when one is bonded to a human, their adventurous sexual practices is clearly a boon to keep a certain _je ne sais quoi_ alive and bright in the relationship. Why, even my own father was honest as he insinuated that his Amanda was not the meek shadow every diplomat assumed her to be while she stood at his elbow.”

“Selik, I beg thee not to continue,” Spock whispered, scandalized and blushing a verdant hue.

Sarek, on the other hand, had raised an eyebrow in amusement. “It is good to hear of such a delightful parallel between our worlds.”

“Father!” Spock hissed, blush intensifying.

Selik took pity on his younger self. “Forgiveness I beg of thee, Spock. At times, I forget that it took me several decades to grow into some forms of humor.”

“I assume your father did not follow such a path.”

“On the contrary . . . his humor was simply more dry. Amanda was certainly a beneficial influence in his intellect. But to a more serious topic.” The ancient Vulcan made eye contact with his younger counterpart. “I do not feel the need to make you trudge and stumble through attempting to find your balance; two months of suffering has sapped your strength and your will to improve your own health. Your life thus far has been incredibly more difficult than my own was; I offer to you the opportunity to meld, so that I may impart to you the methods which worked for me.”

“But . . . would that not be going against your own oaths not to interfere with this universe?”

Selik smiled, brown eyes crinkling in warmth. “Spock, as much as you are _me_ , you have been more of a son to me than anything else. I have already taught many of these techniques with mind healers, and our own father, on New Vulcan. There are many who feel the need to express their grief and anger of our great loss, but did not know how to do so safely while still adhering to Surak’s teachings.” He shifted weight carefully, old bones displeased with his cinderblock perch. “There _will_ be some transference of extraneous information with a meld versus traditional forms of teaching, as many of my developed techniques are attached to very specific memories. I ask your forgiveness in advance, as there are painful emotions that I continue to process.”

Spock took his time to think upon this, eyes drifting down to the tawny head of his Captain. He looked up at the sun, taking note of the time and the path of weather. “I humbly accept, but with one condition, Selik.”

“Of course, Spock.”

His comm buzzed, the noise almost angry. Spock smirked at Jim’s ability to predict his best friend’s reactions. “We bring this back to the farmhouse, where the meld may be done in comfort.”

“Are we welcome there?”

“Do you honestly believe Jim to turn you away from his domicile?” He nudged at the sleeping human, starting the process of waking Jim up, all the while activating his comm and setting it to speaker. “Doctor, I have Jim with me. We are returning with my father and a Vulcan Elder, a mindhealer.”

There was silence on the line for three full seconds before an explosive sigh of relief was heard. “Damn fool farmboy. Good. And _about damn time_ that you got your head checked, you damned stubborn computer! Do you know how close I was to calling your dad and seein’ if he’d be able to find you someone you trust?! Goddamned machine!” He took a calming breath. “Jim.”

“Nnrh.”

“Good, you napped.”

“Fuck off.”

“Not my style, Jimbo. Ask your hobgoblin for that. Anyway!” he cut off Jim’s panicked protest. “I’ve got fish; I think your body is good to start a pescatarian diet while we work our way back up the food chain to your favorite red meats.”

“Fish?”

“Couple pounds of salmon for the grill for us humans, so we can keep the rest of the kitchen vegetarian for your Vulcans. Prepare yourself.”

“Can I try spicy seasoning yet?”

“Ha! No. McCoy out.”

Spock slid his comm back into his pocket, standing so that he could help Jim to his feet. The blond man grinned through his unsteadiness, clearly not well enough to have been playing hooky from his currently-living-with-him physician. Spock didn’t seem to have the same solidity as he was known for, and with nods, the two headed off towards the hoverbike, hardly steadier than newborn colts.

But they were together.

That was what mattered.

Sarek stood, holding his clothed forearm out to assist Selik to his feet. They made their way back towards the hovercar, giving the young ones more than enough time to get back to the farmhouse. At the gates, they met a smiling blonde woman who held a bag over her shoulder and the ghost of a husband at her side. “Ambassadors.”

“Commander Kirk,” they chorused in greeting.

She grinned. “Heard my boy got himself in trouble. Thank you for keeping me in the loop, Ambassador Sarek.”

“It was merely a courtesy as another parent of one of your son’s crewmates.”

“Psh. I’ve had a lot of Vulcan shipmates and consultants over my career. You wouldn’t have shared jack shit if you didn’t feel that it was going beneficial in some way.” She shrugged, understanding the cultural differences. “I’m out-Clan, not even one of your species; most Vulcans wouldn’t think of informing me that they had additional information on my son’s condition, as it wouldn’t be ‘logical’ to speak to me about subjects I would surely find out about when they were either declassified or if Starfleet needed my input.” She smirked, the look almost identical to her son’s expression. “But we both know that’s not why you were contacting me with rather frequent updates.”

Selik eyed his father with amusement clear upon his face. “If I may be so bold, are you _flirting_ with Commander Kirk?”

Sarek’s ears were brushed with green momentarily before he cleared his throat.

“You planned to stall here until she arrived so that we may give Commander Kirk a ride back to the farmhouse. Clever, but unnecessary.”

“Don’t you dare interfere, brat,” Winona laughed. She headed towards their aircar with a grin and a wink. “I know you’re a matchmaker from hell, and we both know that Sarek is attracted to and _attractive to_ us humans. But I will let you both enter first so you can enjoy watching Jimmy’s face when he sees that I’m home.”

“A wise plan, Commander.”

“Ambassador, the moment we get in that aircar, you’d better drop the titles.”

The silence that greeted that statement was a clear “yes, dear.”

Selik smiled, settling into the back seat. Though their relationship was clearly young and fresh, it was good to see his father allowing himself to look for love again. He just hoped that Winona had it in her to see the older Vulcan through his Time . . .


End file.
